


Not Even the Dead

by chapstickaddict



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, kink meme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 12:53:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapstickaddict/pseuds/chapstickaddict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: During an attempted assassination, the assassin manages to get Kili in his arm and holds a knife to his throat, telling Thorin that if he doesn't walk over to where he's standing, he'll kill his nephew instead. Thorin does so without hesitation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Even the Dead

Thorin hadn't truly celebrated in a long while. 

Since the fall of Erebor, there hadn't been much to celebrate. It was hard to feel jubilee when long miles, aching bones, empty purses and even emptier stomachs ravaged his people. But they were strong, they were the mountain. They had persevered. Now, safety embedded in Ered Luin and prosperous (if modestly so), they were able to celebrate Durin's Day as it was meant to be celebrated; with song and dance, with food and merriment. 

Thorin drank sparingly, his body unused to the alcohol. The past years had seen a drastic change in his diet and appetite and he found that the lean years meant he could no longer stomach the rich food and drink he had been so accustom to in Erebor. But a clear head was nothing to mock, since it meant he could take comfort in the obvious enjoyment of those around him, a joy that set his heart at ease. 

Durin's Day was drawing to a close with the children to bed and the adults to more seasoned past times. Thorin and Dis found a table far enough away from the brouhaha but still well within sight of their people. Royalty, as they had both come to learn, made you into a symbol in the minds of others, and their people expected to look upon their symbols. 

They talked of nothing in particular, taking a simple pleasure in each other company instead. Durin's Day was in the end a day of family, and they had not spent enough time together as of late. Between the loss of Frerin, Thorin taking up the mantel of king, their mother's passing, the birth of Fili and Kili, then the plague taking Gregr, and finally getting settled in Ered Luin, it felt like ages since they had but a moment with each other. 

Balin approached them cautiously, mindful of the peaceful bubble they had created around them.

"We seemed to have picked up some little rascals," he muttered, nodding over toward a pile of empty barrels in the far corner. Dis craned around Thorin, who turned in time to see a distinctly familiar golden head bob out of sight. 

Dis exhaled loudly through her nose. "I could have sworn I left them to their beds." 

"Evidently not."

Dis turned to him, grinning with an impish delight that he had not seen in years. 

"My bother, my King," she started with a cheeky tone that sounded so much like her old self Thorin's heart skipped a beat. "How would you like to deal with your errant nephews?"

"Not particularly."

Dis leaned forward, her eyes expressive and a pleading smile on her lips, and Thorin suddenly remembered that he was never able to say no to her. 

"Alright," he huffed as he rose to his feet. Dis' smile turned gentle as she squeezed his hand in thanks, beckoning Balin to take his place. 

The empty barrels were tucked deep into a far corner, away from stumbling feet and sudden brawls. 

"I see you both," Thorin called out as he approached them. There was a moment of stillness, and he could hear their silent debate on whether to call his bluff. Stare turning stony, Thorin crossed his arms, and growled. 

"Now."

Fili, the obedient child he was, instantly popped up, though the grimace on his face let Thorin know Kili had been physical in his displeasure at his brother's abandonment. Thorin motioned and Fili began easing his way down, looking ashamed and mortified at being caught. Thorin felt a pang of concern; Fili always worked so hard to be the unburdensome one of the pair; striving to be obedient, dutiful, and respectful to everyone around him. But with so many dominating personalities in their line, Fili's more mellow traits tended to draw him into the shadows, making him appear meek to others. He needed to learn how to be more assertive in his silence, using it to say everything he needed it to and it was a lesson Thorin planned to address soon. 

As Fili stopped before him, Thorin pressed his hand into the nap of his golden-haired nephew's neck to show that he wasn't nearly as displeased as he appeared. The smile he got in return was relieved and hopeful. 

"Your mother seems to remember sending to you both to bed," Thorin said loud enough for Kili to hear. "And yet here you are."

"We weren't tired!" Kili's voice piped up over the barrels as mischievous dark eyes peeked out over a lid. Thorin felt his heart twinge again. Kili didn't know it, but he was so much like Dis was at that age, free spirited and without care. Head-strong didn't even begin to scrap the surface of his younger nephew, and he was completely at home letting everyone know how extroverted he was. Thorin was convinced the boy could make friends with stones. That intense personality translated amazingly well into the training ring, but Kili was becoming notorious for only taking orders from Thorin, Dwalin, and on occasion, Fili. Any other who tried got his wicked tongue and his sharp arrows. 

Barely past their forties, and they were already graying his hair. But they were his sister-sons, and try as he might he could deny them no more then he could Dis. Releasing Fili, he jerked his head toward the long row of tables behind them.

"Then come sit like civilized dwarves, at least," he instructed just as war-sharpened senses began screaming at him. 

The next few moments were a blur, with shadows rising over the barrels, Dwalin's shout of warning, and sharp sting of a blade over his shoulder. Thorin snapped the first assassin's neck and grabbed out for his nephew, catching Fili's tunic and hauling him back toward the main hallway. A shove got his elder nephew off to relative safety before he stabbed the next assassin with the knife he always kept in his boot. It wasn't a clean kill, which irked the perfectionist in him. More time to dwell on that later. 

Thorin whirled to confront the last assassin, only to stop dead in his tracks as he saw were Kili had ended up; in the assassin's arms with a knife to his throat. 

The assassin, a dwarf who's braids, beads, and tattoos Thorin didn't recognize, watched him with the wide, slightly crazed eyes of a cornered animal. But he paid only the most brief of attentions to the dwarf, keeping his focus instead on his young nephew. Kili had his lips pressed together in a desperate attempt to keep himself stoic. He wasn't shaking, but his eyes were overly bright and his expression was caught between humiliation, annoyance, and fury. He felt more then saw Fili attempt to lunge forward, but he caught him before both of his nephews ended up in danger and another hard shove sent him back towards Dwalin. The larger dwarf had appeared quite suddenly at the edge of his vision and Thorin was confident he would keep Fili safe. 

Turning back, he stared down the assassin with cold eyes. 

"Drop your weapon," the other dwarf snarled. The hand on Kili's jaw forced his chin up, exposing his throat to the blade's tender mercies. "Drop it now and come to me or I kill him now."

Thorin dropped the knife. 

"Uncle, don't-," Kili started, but the assassin pressed the knife deeper, silencing him. 

"Know this," Thorin said quietly. "If he bleeds, you will still be alive years from now, but not even the dead will envy you for it." 

The assassin snarled, but Thorin could see the fear and uncertainty shading his deep set eyes. His body language was twitchy and skittish, like a rabbit who knew it was being tracked by a wolf. This hadn't been the plan, Thorin realized. They most likely meant to corner him in one of the many dark corners of their hall and overpower him. They hadn't expected the fierce adrenaline protecting his nephews had given him, and they hadn't expected to be cut down to one with a full hall of dwarves watching them. The dead silence echoed, and Thorin knew all eyes where on them. 

Deliberately, Thorin took a step forward. 

The assassin, quick as lightening, switched the knife from Kili's throat up to Thorin's jugular, pressing it deep enough to instantly draw blood. His other hand was still locked tight on Kili's jaw, keeping his valuable hostage close. Behind him, Dwalin snarled, causing the others in the hall to shift and shake as various weapons were gripped, hefted, or otherwise summoned.

Thorin locked eyes with the assassin and slowly, deliberately, moved his empty hands down to Kili. He rested one on his nephew's shoulder, and the trembling under his palm felt of rage rather then fear. His other hand slid over the assassin's as he gently worked his fingers between grubby fingers and fragile skin. 

After what felt like eternity, Thorin pried the assassin's hand free from Kili's chin only to have it latch onto his own wrist with the force of a warg's jaw. Thorin let it happen, allowing himself to be captured so he could quickly drag Kili from between them. The sudden movement startled the assassin, who forced himself into Thorin's personal space and pressed the knife that much deeper into his skin. A new sliver of blood spilt over his his tunic. But none of that mattered because he was able to jerk Kili back behind him. He felt Dwalin's steady hand over his own on Kili's shirt collar and only when he had a grip on the boy did Thorin release his nephew and turn his full attention on the dwarf before him.

"You have to know you won't make it out of this hall alive if you finish this," Thorin whispered, keeping his voice level and patient. He used the same tone when he was explaining new concepts to his nephews, or debating with Balin. Raging fury needed to be saved for battle and arguing with Dis. "Is my death worth your life?"

"The price on your head is."

"But it will not be you who spends it. And men like you don't have families."

"No, but right now I have you."

"This entire hall has seen your face. You threatened my nephews and spill my blood- my sister will have your hide before sunset, by her own motivations."

"Do you want to know the price of your life? It makes situations like this worth it."

"Enlighten me."

The dwarf told him. Thorin had to say he was rather impressed. 

"Will you hear my counter offer?"

"You think yourself in a position to bargain?"

"You haven't killed me yet." 

The dwarf twitched, eyes darting over Thorin's shoulders were he was sure a less then pleasant picture painted itself. 

"Speak."

"Step back and discard your weapons. You will get the price you were promised and your life, but in return I want the name of the person who sent you, and your left hand."

"I could slit your throat right here-," the assassin growled aggressively. 

"Be glad it's not your right," Thorin's voice never rose above a soft tone, but the fury in his voice was unmistakable. "Be glad your heart will still beat to spend your gold. Be glad your eyes will see it shine and your skin will feel it's cool touch. You," Thorin paused, not allowing the catch in his throat to come out. "you threatened one of my most precious people. Be glad and recognize my offer for what it is. Mercy."

The assassin's blade was still pressed to his neck, but Thorin was of Durin's blood and he would not flinch away from it. After an age, something came over the assassin's eyes and he stepped back, the knife clattering to the ground. 

Dwalin's hand buried itself into the shoulder of his shirt as he ripped Thorin backward with impossible force. His back hit his friend's chest as he stumbled and Dwalin nearly took him off his feet as he wrapped an arm around Thorin's chest, wrenched him away from the havoc. He could hear the assassin being apprehended and he struggled in Dwalin's arms to find Balin, who could be most trusted with his next orders.

"Balin!" he shouted, spotting the other dwarf, sword drawn at Dis' elbow. "Make sure they keep him alive!" 

Chaos reined for the next few minutes as Thorin tried to keep his priorities straight. Dwalin seemed in no mood to release him, but he couldn't see Kili and Fili, and Dis had built herself up into a fury, he could hear her from across the hall. The hall was in disarray as the assassin was felled under a mob of angry dwarves and try as Thorin might to fight it, Dwalin kept dragging him further and further back, determinately ignoring his protests to the contrary. Finally, Thorin found himself tossed into a side chamber, and the only reason he didn't turn and cause Dwalin damage was because both Fili and Kili where already there. As soon as Dwalin released him, he was immediately surrounded by his nephews. Thorin enveloped both of them in a deep embrace, disturbingly aware how close they had come to blood and tears. 

They were both babbling, young enough to be letting the shock of events overwhelming them. Thorin couldn't make out a coherent sentence so he simply clung tighter to them, feeling oddly numb. 

Dwalin, strong, determined, protective Dwalin, got the three of them out of the hall with little fuss. Thorin wasn't much paying attention to his surrounding, but his vision was suddenly filled with Dis' concerned face as she stole one of her sons back from his grasp and he realized they were in the cozy confides of her sitting room. 

"Wait-," he tried to straighten, to tear himself away from the pile of his family, but Dis' hand wrapped like an iron band around his neck. 

"Balin can handle it," she snarled, her tone very clearly telling him he could leave over her dead body. Fili, his face buried in Thorin's chest, muttered his agreement as Kili tried to simultaneously cling to all three of them. 

It took only that to make Thorin relent, to return to the warmth of his loved ones. The dawn would bring interrogations, punishments, and vengeance to those who threatened his own, but the comforting dusk was for his blood. but After all, Durin's Day was about family. 

*

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.


End file.
